The Great Wait
by comewithnattah
Summary: Judith's baby monitor spills the beans about Rick's feelings for Michonne.
1. Chapter 1

"I really like her, man." Abraham said in agony.

"Yeah, she's cute." Rick agreed.

"She's more than cute, Rick. She's gonna turn me into the kind of asshole that picks flowers, man. I can feel it. Yesterday, I passed some wildflowers on the road and I almost bent over to grab some for her. You gotta help me, Boss. You're the man with all the answers."

Rick was laughing and shaking his head while Abraham's face was panicked and tense. "I have no answers for your Sasha problems, Abraham." Rick said frankly. "But thanks for the beer." He took another swig.

"We're supposed to be having a bro moment here. When Daryl comes in here and whines to you about Beth, I know you give him something more than this!"

"What? What are you talking about?" Rick chuckled and spat some beer back into the bottle.

"Come on, Boss. I know you and Daryl fucking lay in grassy fucking fields and look up at the fucking clouds and talk about how much he fucking loves Beth and then you fucking snap him outta that bullshit because we don't have time to be fucking falling in love around here."

"Ok, first off, man, me and Daryl don't watch the clouds together." Rick chuckled again. "And second he doesn't talk to me about Beth. Where did you get that from?"

Abraham darted eyes his and avoided Ricks gaze. He shrugged and threw back his beer bottle, gulping a swallow.

The baby monitor on the kitchen counter between them made a noise and Rick held out his hand to quiet Abraham before he could speak. Sure enough, Judith was waking up. He had just put her down for her afternoon nap when Abraham came over. Rick was pleased that he'd gotten her to sleep. Judith would go to sleep for almost anyone else: Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, Carl, Carol, even Daryl, but not for him. Michonne always said it was because he played with Judith too much for the little one to take Rick seriously. Now that he had finally proved her wrong and gotten her to sleep in her crib, he cringed at the thought of Michonne saying 'I told you so' when she came for her shift of 'Judy-watch'.

"Shit." Rick said as he put the bottle on the counter and started up to the baby's room. "Michonne." He whispered to himself in a peeved tone. Abraham followed. Rick looked back, half annoyed that it would be a bitch trying to get Judith back to sleep and half annoyed that Abraham wasn't leaving. "Look," Rick explained over his shoulder, "I think we DO have time to fall in love…" he added a disclaimer, "If one would be so inclined. We finally found a safe place. We got alliances with all the groups around us. We're trading. We're seeing walkers less and less…"

"Come on, Boss. What in the hell kinda shit-ass advice is that?" Abraham was frustrated but also ecstatic to hear Rick say these words. It was what he wanted to hear in his core but he had gone to Rick assuming that he'd get a swift kick in the butt that would knock some sense into him.

They both made it to Judith's room. She was sitting up smiling at her dad as he walked in. "No. Judith, nap time. Come on. Chonne's gonna bust my…"

"Chonne?" Abraham repeated. "Nicknames huh? Oh, Like 'Richonne'." He said proud for once to be in on the gossip.

"Who the hell's 'Richonne'?"

"That's what everybody calls you two. You know 'Richonne', like Rick and Michonne? Maggie made it up. She said it was like 'Brangelita'… not really sure what a 'Brangelita' is… but 'Richonne'…"

"What?" Rick said looking back at Abraham confused. He picked up Judith and bounced her in his arms. She immediately begin to play with his nose and eyes and he saw that she was wide awake and he was defeated. Abraham reached out to hold Judith, "Here, let me try." He said. Rick looked at him and found the thought that he would be able to get the kid to sleep when her own father couldn't laughable. So he handed her over. Judith looked back at him with wide uncertain eyes. Rick chuckled.

"It's cool, Bossman. You call her Chonne. Sometimes I call Sasha 'Sashie-cakes'. You know, not to her face but , like, you know sometimes when I'm jerking off…"

Rick scrunched his face, "Come on, Abe." He nodded his head to Judith.

"My bad, Boss. You're right." He stiffened his back. "But I mean seriously… Is it like racist to say black women are like fucking Goddesses?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Rick replied dryly.

"You don't know? Fuck if you don't."

"Abraham, if Judith's first word is fuck… I swear…" Rick warned.

"Sorry man." He looked down to the baby on his arm and spoke to her in a conjuring tone, "Sleep, my pretty, sleeeeeeep." Quickly he returned to Rick, "Come on man, I know you let 'Chonne' handle that 'python', and I do not mean your gun," He burbled at his own cleverness. "Everybody knows, man. All I'm saying is there's something about black women."

"You're a lunatic." Rick dismissed his allegations. But there was a slight reddening of his face that told he was hiding something. He had fallen thoroughly in love with Michonne. It kept him up at night. His body tensed when she was around him and his groin muscles convulsed when she gave him the slightest meaningless touch. His curiosity was peaked at Abrahams declaration that everybody knew something was there. "What the hell are you talking about- 'everybody knows'? What is there to know?"

Abraham who was looking down at Judith resting peacefully on his shoulder, now snickered at Rick, until he looked up and realized Rick didn't seem to be asking in jest. "Come on Boss. What? That's something only you and Daryl talk about? Well he must've told a lot of people because like I said everybody knows. Even if everybody wasn't talking about it, the fact that your face is redder than a country boy's neck right now is a dead giveaway."

Unbeknownst to Rick and Abraham, Michonne had walked into the house ready to take Judith off his hands for the afternoon. She was missing all the battle gear she normally wore out in the world as she enjoyed the day in the confines of the Alexandria Safe Zone. She walked about barefoot, wearing a red, spaghetti strapped tee and cut-off jeans that broadcast the suppleness of her ebony thighs. Since the day was warmer than usual, before heading upstairs for Judith, she went for a drink of water in the kitchen, where Judith's baby monitor was still on and spilling the beans of the entire conversation in progress upstairs. All she had heard so far was that Daryl was telling everybody something and Rick considered it sensitive information. She stopped mid-gulp and looked at the monitor's screen. She couldn't see their faces, only the crib and someone's elbow.

"Who is everybody?" Rick asked Abraham. Rick was wondering if Michonne knew about this rumor. She had never said anything to him. Considering he was the guy in charge, he had no knowledge of this and it was pissing him off a little.

"Everybody is everybody." Abraham blew through Rick's question and went back to his own concerns, "Look man. I just want to know how you do it. How you fuck Michonne's brains out without picking fucking flowers for her, man? How do you keep your Superman balls from turning into Clark Kent? I want to get with Sasha and still be the fucking man, like you are."

"Look," Rick reprimanded him whispering in a mocking tone, "I am not the 'fucking man', alright?" He took Judith, who much to his chagrin was sleeping on Abraham's shoulder, and laid her back in her crib carefully. She stirred a little and he patted her back, remaining silent until she was still. He continued to rub her back and continued quietly, "If I was really the man Michonne would be in my bed every night instead of hers."

Michonne leaned in closer to the monitor to hear better and her jaw dropped at Rick's words.

"I mean, I guess… if I was really the man." Rick concluded.

"You fucking are." Abraham whispered as he tilted his head making his point with sobering eye-contact.

"No. I'm fucking NOT." Rick countered, imitating Abraham's body language. He was irritated that Abraham's notion of him was being based on his belief that Rick was doing something he was longing to do but hadn't had the nerve to. In all honesty, this conversation really opened a door to emotions Rick was battling every day yet he only pushed them back further and further into the reservoir of his mind. He only released his frustrations in bullets at target practice or with his hatchet when he came across a group of walkers, but never in words. But now, thanks to Abraham, the dam was breaking.

"I mean, I think… you know… Michonne is maybe the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Rick stuttered, groping for words. "I mean, you know… not just because she's pretty and she's got those lips that make me want to…" he trailed off, licked his own lips hungrily and resumed, "What I'm saying is- not just because she's beautiful on the outside. She's fucking strong and smart. Smarter than me." He pointed to himself, "I couldn't pull that. I mean… I wish I could. Believe me. Maybe… sometimes… I think about … I mean, I do… I do think about just…" he shrugged his shoulders unable to put his thoughts more gently and stared off into space. No longer acknowledging Abraham, he began to play out a familiar scenario in his mind, "just tasting her, you know? I want to go on a run… not for food or… or supplies but to find all the spots on her body that make her wet… So what?" He brought himself back to reality, "It's not happening."

Michonne pulled up a stool to the counter and sat down. She felt a little lightheaded. She began to grin uncontrollably. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She buried her face in her hands, placing her elbows on the counter and she just held her head in her hands.

Abraham opened his mouth to speak and Rick cut him off, "I know what you're saying, ' You can lead all these people but you can't even lead your fucking feet over to the woman you love and tell her how you feel?"

"Love?" Abraham repeated in disbelief as though the word was a profanity to dirty for even him to say.

"You don't think I think about that," Rick continued, "every time I look at her… or… or look at Maggie and Glenn and wish that could be us?"

Abraham opened his mouth again to stop this conversation from becoming anymore awkward than it already was but Rick kept on whining in a depressing tone, "I mean. She smells so good, man… and last week we went to the Hilltop to see Jesus and while we were loading up some things, she got hot and put her tank top in a knot… and, Abe, man… I wanted to kiss her stomach and just unbutton her jeans and… just have her in the back of the car…"

Michonne sat up and lifted her hair off her neck. She remembered the exact day he was talking about. She had lifted her shirt on purpose to get his attention. But he would barely look at her. His aloof behavior hurt her feelings a little. She was in an irritated mood the entire ride home. Rick had thought the quick yet carnivorous glance he'd given had offended her. But Michonne never even noticed him leering. Now she suddenly felt an inferno rush through her. It made her armpits sweat and she giggled quietly as she reached for an old magazine on the counter and lifted her arms one at a time and fanned herself with it.

Rick was still saying something but she could barely hear him. She picked up the monitor and increased the volume. It didn't help. She smacked it with the palm of her hand. She couldn't hear anything. So she stood up, desperate to hear more, and started walking out of the kitchen to strengthen the signal by getting relatively closer to the other monitor upstairs. She strained to hear as she held the monitor up to her ear. And just as she was coming out of the kitchen, Rick and Abraham came down the steps and saw her, with a concentrated face and her ear trained on the baby monitor.

"Hey, Michonne." Abraham said nonchalantly. No one really understood what they were seeing for a second. And then… it dawned on everyone in the room. Michonne slowly lowered the baby monitor from her ear and her distressed face fell into an innocent smile as she sat the monitor on the sideboard next to her.

"The baby monitor." Abraham pointed out as he stared blankly at Michonne.

"This fool…" She mumbled to herself. His calling attention to it made her eyes big and she closed them and wished very hard that she was somewhere else.

Rick gave a nervous, unconvincing laugh and asked, "How long you been here?"

She simply raised her eyebrows and tucked in her lips, taking a vow of silence. A vow that everyone seemed to have taken momentarily, until Abraham broke the awkward silence.

"I'm gonna go." he muttered as he quickly reduced the seven paces needed to reach the door to three, leaving Rick and Michonne standing there staring at each other.

"I came for the… Judith… to watch Judith." She managed to say, pointing upstairs and swirling her finger in a pitiful attempt at casualness.

"She's upstairs asleep." They spoke to each other as if they were in a trance or a dream where, if they remained very still and said as few words as possible, they could rewind time from this moment and fix this whole embarrassing encounter.

"YOU got her to sleep?" She asked playfully.

"Abr…" He started to say, but to prove himself to her he answered, "Yeah. It was me."

She smiled at him and nodded her head in approval. "Good job, daddy." She immediately winced at the sexually provocative title.

He blushed, "Could you umm… hear… what we…"

"Not… I mean…" She looked down at the table to run from his relentless blue eyes that were making it hard for her to breathe as usual. "The monitor kinda spazed out. Maybe it needs batteries or…" she mumbled.

"Because, really… we were just talking about him and Sasha." Rick explained.

"Oh."

"He really likes her…"

"Ok."

"He wanted my advice."

She went back to his eyes sending him running from hers, "Did you give him any?" She put the question to him longing for him, now, to repeat the things he had said upstairs.

"What advice could I give him?" he said searching her face for any positive sign.

His secrecy annoyed her so she shrugged, unsure of what to say, "It's hot in here. I'm here now. So you can get going." She said as she looked around for the source of heat that seemed to be bearing down on her from nowhere. She flapped her shirt up and down to cool herself, this time unconsciously exposing her mid-rift. Rick ignored her words and took her body language as a sign.

"You really want me to go?" He asked her with intent, catching her eyes with his and staring her down. She shook her head no with a movement so small that he squinted to be sure. He knew if she really wanted him to leave she would have no problem telling him. He never knew her to play coy. But if she welcomed his attention, why hadn't she said so before. "People think we're a thing. Have you heard about this?" he put the question to her, treading lightly.

She diverted her eyes now as he walked toward her, his eyes moving over her lips, her neck, her collar bone, the rising and falling of her breasts… his movement seemed magnetized and before he could exhale, he was face to cheek with her, she still nervously refused to look up and let her hands drop to her side. "Chonne?" He demanded an answer. She closed her eyes and her body jerked when he reached out and grabbed her by the hips and squeezed while he caressed the smooth dewy skin of her belly with his thumbs. She slightly shrugged her shoulders and braced herself, placing her hands on his torso.

He slid his hands from her hips upwards and under her shirt. She didn't protest. She raised her arms at his leading, recognizing she was finally under his control, right where she had fantasized being so many times. She let out a sigh as he lifted her shirt over her head and placed it on the table over the baby monitor she was so fixated on. He leaned in to her, "So you don't have anything to say?" He interrogated her as he drank in the curves of her breasts and the scars on her skin. "I'm disappointed." He said in a subdued, serpentine voice, "I thought we were partners."

"We are." She spoke up to confirm as her heart banged in her ears.

"Look at me." Rick commanded. And she did. He was so close to her that his words traveled through her ear right down into her belly, making her knees weak.

In this moment she was literally struggling inside herself to take back control of this situation but her mind seemed slow to understand what her body apparently already knew: She belong to the man before her. Michonne stood ready to be devoured. To her, Rick Grimes was supernatural. She had seen him do things that an ordinary man would have known better than to try. He had certainly made her come alive again. He could make her docile in a way that she had never experienced before. She felt feminine again when he held her in his sights. She had long understood that she was a new woman in a new world, but when it came to Rick, she'd morph again. She was someone more than she was before the walking dead. She was still the soldier she had become but he was definitely her General. She had seen Rick handle every situation they'd come into. He didn't ask permission. He didn't apologize. He simply took what he needed and everyone resigned to his command. Now she wanted her trembling body to be the situation he handled.

She suddenly swooned, a feeling that confused her and she grabbed him by the shoulders to steady herself. She rested her forehead over his heart and he brought his hands around her and enveloped her body in his arms, bringing her close to his wall-like chest. He indulged in her fragrance as she lingered just under his nose and he opened his hands wide palming her back, he pressed her to himself, thinking _'She smells like spearmint roses_ ' and he lifted her chin upward and hovered over her lips and her cheeks taking in her scent unashamedly. She extended her neck reaching for his lips with her own. But he pulled his face away from hers.

"Fuck, Rick. Kiss me." She was humbled to beg.

"Mm-uh" he shook his head, pulling her hips closer to his, reaching behind her and grabbing handfuls of her thickness, he concluded that he would harass her body until her walls swelled and dripped with desperation. "So, you've been making me wait?" He asked her.

She didn't reply, instead she sucked her teeth playfully with a smile and tried to snake her fingers into his hair, his dark curly hair. The scent was so intoxicating to her. Sometimes when she babysat Judith she would nap with her in his bed and Michonne would put her face in his pillow and breathe deep. She often wanted to sweep those curls out of his eyes and kiss his mouth passionately. But now that she tried, he let her go and, with a tight grip, pulled her hands away.

"You've been making me wait, huh?" he repeated. He brought her hand up to his mouth and gently bit then kissed the inside of her wrist. She shook her head no in answer to his question because she felt she couldn't move her mouth to speak until he kissed her. "You have." He corrected her and chuckled menacingly, rubbing his bottom lip across her forehead and pressing his body into hers. She managed a huffish smile. She could feel him through his denim, hard against her abdomen and her nipples drew tight and ached as they lightly touched the softness of his t-shirt.

Even though Rick was ready and overdue for the carnal feast that awaited him, he was dueling with a mischievous scheme. He couldn't relinquish a need to see her beg now. How many times had he been torn to pieces after a day full of her presence and smell dizzying him? He wanted to return the favor and watch as she was clutched by the same irascible craving that he had tended to so many nights with a grip on his tingling manhood that, at least, permitted him to sleep but never gave him true satisfaction. He remembered how many mornings he could hear the shower spraying her prime physique and he imagined milky suds slipping and trailing her soft sable skin. He was holding her now and could fully grasp what an outrageous abuse of power she had wielded over him. Out of regard for her exceeding judgment of what their relationship should be he had held his feelings at bay. Even though he led their group, Michonne led Rick. Rick knew it and Michonne knew it and Rick knew Michonne knew it. This led him to the implicit understanding that if they were to ever be where they were in this moment, she would call the play. But she never did.

He let her go and leaned back against the furniture where the monitor sat, "What's going on in that head of yours?" He asked with a tired smile. He really struggled to understand what she could have been trying to protect by keeping this secret from him.

"Rick…" Michonne covered her breasts with her arms and called his name but she really had no words to say to him, she was still struggling to understand why she hadn't told him how she felt, herself. She knew he wanted her physically. She could always feel his eyes on her, coveting her curves, especially when she walked away. There was always something about the way he'd look into her eyes- the rest of his face may have been reading fear, frustration or dismay- but his eyes were always smiling at her. She knew him. She saw every tell that no one else could see. She often catalogued them mentally in the middle of the night while she lay in her bed contemplating how she might help him in any way.

But the truth was Michonne wasn't sure that a 'friends with benefits' scenario wouldn't compromise everything they had built together. Michonne knew Rick was a passionate man, but passion is not always love and Michonne was in love, terribly in love. A sexual relationship with Rick would have been euphoric, but not nearly enough. But now that baby monitor had given her life and there was nothing she wanted more in this setting than sex with Rick. She would have traded the feeling of him inside her- claiming her, for all the air in her lungs.

"Well," Rick stood up abruptly, "I gotta go see Deanna."

"What? Now?" trepidation in her voice.

"I'll be back soon." He picked up her shirt and slipped it back over her head. He held an arm-hole open for her.

"What the hell, Rick?" She stood there defiant.

"Come on, now." He nudged her lovingly.

She complied, still objecting, "Deanna can wait."

"You're real good at deciding who should wait, huh?" He said raising his brow with devilish grin. "It's your turn now. You'll be sweet enough to wait a little while till I get back. Right?" Rick caressed her chin and pinched her cheek playfully then turned to leave.

"No kiss goodbye?" she entreated.

Rick shook his head and picked up his gun belt from the couch on the way out the door. He turned to her in revelry, "Nope."

She sighed deeply and smiled, "Rick…"

"How you like them apples?" He called back to her with his steamy southern twang as he exited.

"I love apples!" Michonne shouted as she smiled to herself and rolled her eyes. "Asshole." She whispered and began to swell the edge of her shirt again for reprieve from the heat of the day… her desire… this setback? "Ok." She said out loud to compose herself. He could run out the door all he wanted. She'd still heard Rick fucking Grimes say that he loved her and she smirked as she plopped on the couch. No sooner than she'd put her feet up, Judith's cry came through the speaker of the baby monitor. _Momma's coming_ she thought to herself and she beamed again uncontrollably.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hello Sherriff. How was your morning?" Deanna was happy to see Rick was adjusting to this new environment nicely. He was a godsend from her point of view. Deanna was getting tired of her role as leader. Things were getting more complicated in the world and she found herself lacking the fortitude or the savage makeup to keep her people safe. She had grown physically tired in a way that was more than just old age and now she was ready to rest seeing Rick as her inevitable and experienced successor. "What's going on?" she regarded him closely.

"Nothing."

"Your face is all red and you're wearing the most slap-happy smirk I think I've ever seen on anyone older than 12." Deanna was beginning to guess the source of his giddiness,

"You're not drunk are you?" She asked to exclude the only other option countering her suspicions.

"No." Rick answered as he rubbed the stubble on his face, flustered and trying to moderate his countenance.

"No? Well, have a drink with me then." Deanna offered a little scotch and Rick accepted. But the taste, as so many things reminded him of Michonne. How, after an unjustifiably strenuous and unsuccessful run she'd say to him, 'I needs me a drank' in a playful drawl. He could see her winking at him as they clinked their glasses before taking a sip on the couch, in the quiet, after dark. He shared her sentiments now, after an unjustifiably strenuous and, up to this point, unsuccessful pursuit of his inky fox and her plump lips and endless eyes that he saw in the dark bottom of his glass. He sat smiling into his drink when he heard Deanna's voice coming from a seemingly distant location. Slowly he realized she was staring at him with a raised brow and a tickled curve forming at the corners of her mouth.

"Welcome back." She said playfully when she saw she had his attention again. "I wanted to get your ideas about how we could strengthen any weak spots in our security procedures, but it appears you have something else on your mind." Deanna teased with a knowing inflection.

"No… no… sorry, Deanna." He attempted to redeem himself sliding his tumbler away from him on the coffee table. "That's good scotch." Rick mumbled and cleared his throat,

"You have my full attention." He sat back in his chair and aimed his attention at her in all seriousness.

"How's Michonne?"

His face turned red again and fractured, showing his teeth, his eyes shining blue like two pools in the sun. "Michonne's ok. She's home with Judith."

"Home." Deanna repeated back to him. "Home with Judith. That sounds right. That's as it should be."

"Yeah. They seem to get along." He nodded in genuine agreement.

"And Carl?"

"Carl thinks she's awesome." He contemplated. "That's his buddy, Michonne is…"

"One big happy family, huh, Rick? And a beautiful one at that. And now you've come to Alexandria and you're so important to us… You know, Reg would always worry that I was working myself too hard. He would always tell me "Honey you need a 'Barefoot break'. Shoes off!" and he'd make me take off my heels, sit down and he'd give me a foot rub. Ugh!" she exclaimed, "He gave a killer foot rub! I was taking care of so many people and problems and … just crap. I can't tell you what it meant to have someone take care of me. Foot rubs, Rick, I'm telling you… amazing."

"You giving foot massages, Rick? I came just in time." Glen teased as he entered the room holding Maggie's hand as she trailed behind him, "Sorry, we're late Deanna."

Rick hung his head and smirked then looked up at Deanna from under his brow begging her to explain by widening his eyes. She only answered Glenn, "Not to worry. From the look of you two, I seem to be intruding on the magic of love in more ways than one today." She chuckled dryly. "I'm starting to think your group is less a band of hard warriors and more like a classroom of horny middle-schoolers."

Maggie and Glenn looked at each other with baffled expressions until Maggie noticed that Glenn's fly was open and he could see what a mess her hair was. Maggie eyed his crotch and he sprang to action zipping up with haste and embarrassment.

"Don't be embarrassed." Deanna consoled them, "What you two have is a wonderful thing. Some people stare love in the face every day but never do anything about it. Now, that's a reason to be ashamed. Right, Rick?" Rick simply looked to Glenn with confusion. Deanna informed Mr. and Mrs. Rhee, "Spence said he saw a herd of wild horses, I wanted to see if we could wrangle those suckers in here. Might come in handy… transportation that runs on grass. What do you think? Maggie did you guys have horses on your farm?"

"Yes. For a while."

"I rode one before." Rick added.

"Me too. Those were the days." Glenn joked.

"What do you guys think?" You wanna try to round them up?"

"We gotta get started with stables and find saddles and I gotta make a list of what else." Maggie considered.

"Well, think about what we need and let's talk tomorrow." Deanna concluded. "You might as well go too, Rick."

"But," Rick started.

"That's ok. Go ahead. I'll see you later." Deanna reassured him.

They said good bye to her and the three of them walked out onto the street.

"Maggie!" Carol yelled from across the street. The three stopped and waited for Carol to catch up to them. "Hello, boys." She said cheerfully. She had been in a genuine good mood since she found out Maggie was expecting. Judith was always a joy to have around but there was something so sad, to Carol's mind, about her never getting to know her mother. She was very hopeful now that the world, at least their world, could accommodate a mother and child together. The world had not allowed it for her and Sophia or Lori and Judith.

"Just got back?" Rick asked her. She had been out on patrol with Rosita. "I've been back for a few hours. Maggie, can I bend your ear a minute?"

Maggie and Carol walked away from the men without a farewell, immediately engrossed in what Glenn figured to be some maternal conspiracy that would end up changing his life in ways he wouldn't waste his time trying to imagine. He joined Rick, "Was it just me or did it seem like Deanna was saying stuff to you without, you know, saying it?"

"Sorta felt that way, right?"

Glen sighed and fell to ease, placing one hand over his heart and another on Rick's shoulder. "Man, you don't know how happy everyone will be to have this out in the open. Everybody can just…" he bobbed his hands smoothly in front of him indicating calm, "Maggie has been hoping you two straighten things out before she gets too big. She found a dress on a run about a month ago that she's dying to wear when you do it. Carol wants you guys to do it by the pond but Maggie likes Deanna's back yard cuz of the gazebo…"

Rick was looking at his boots as they walked. He listened, trying to decipher the event Glen had in mind. Finally he interrupted, "Glen?"

"Yeah." He broke from his train of thought.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, Rick." He leaned forward with a furrowed brow in interest.

"The hell you talking about, man?"

Glen smiled a bizarre smile. "The wedding, man. You're gonna ask her right? Cuz Carol has all the stuff she needs for a rum cake. She even found the bride and the groom that goes on top."

 _What in the actual hell?_ Rick thought to himself but he didn't voice his astonishment to what Glen seemed to view as a quickly approaching event. Rick was genuinely stunned and all he could offer was, "I'll see you later."

When Rick turned the corner to his street he could see Michonne and Daryl sitting on the steps of his house. She was holding Judith and Daryl seemed to be tickling the baby's feet. Neither of them saw him coming and as Rick approached he took in the scene. He gave attention to Michonne's sweet smile as she looked down at his giggling daughter. The whole picture before him seemed to slow as he eyeballed her hands flat against Judith's stomach as she held her to her chest, the lines of her strong but delicate arms, her slender fingers wrapped around Judith's little pudgy ones… he felt his face flush and he nervously pulled his hair back even though none had actually fallen in his face.

"I don't know, man. Rick's a nut." Daryl joked in his low rasp. "You wouldn't have had to ask me twice."

"And I won't." Michonne said with a huff. "He got me all the way twisted." She leaned over, poured kisses on Judith's cheek and whispered a bit of baby-talk in her ear, "Yes he does. Your daddy's gonna have to chase me if he wants me now. Wont he, Stinker? Yes, he will." Judith giggled again and grabbed one of Michonne's locs.

"Oh, man." Daryl objected. "Don't do him like that." He lobbied for his friend.

"Don't do HIM like that?" Michonne repeated, indignant. "Watch me."

"Oh, man. Now I see where little Ass-Kicker gets it from. You're cold-hearted, man." He laughed and looked out into the street where he saw Rick coming. "Here comes your boo now."

Michonne caught sight of him too. Rick raised his brow in suspicion at the pair. He greeted them both, "Hey."

"Hey, man." Daryl stood up and looked to Michonne as she rolled her eyes at Rick and refused to speak. Daryl chuckled quietly and whispered into the humid breeze, "Cold-hearted."

Rick strained to hear what Daryl whispered but he had another thing in mind. "Can you take Judith and I'll come get her later?" He asked Daryl.

"I was just about to take her for a walk." Michonne griped.

"Daryl can take her. I need your help with something." Rick answered her back.

She just cocked her head with attitude, burning a hole in his face with her glare and he stared right back.

"Yeah. No problem, Rick." Daryl interrupted the standoff, "I got her." He leaned in slowly and extended his arms to Judith, looking to Michonne for permission. Judith jumped to go to him and he cautiously took the baby from her arms with a wink. Michonne immediately responded with a deep inhale and rolling eyes again.

"You wanna go get her bag?" Rick requested formally to Michonne.

"Don't you know where it is?" she refused to budge.

Rick sighed in frustration, chuckled at her adorable stubbornness and shook his head. He walked between them and went into the house, quickly returning with Judith's baby bag. "I'll come get her later." Rick reiterated as he handed it off to Daryl.

"Take your time, Rick." Daryl advised giving Judith a kiss on the cheek. We'll see y'all later. Say bye to mommy and daddy." He joked and Judith waved. "See? Ass-Kicker, she knows." He called back behind himself as he walked away.

Rick went red again.

" **BYE** , Daryl." Michonne pushed him on his way with a smirk and her hostile tone.

"Come on in here." He summoned her. "I need you to do something for me."

Michonne reared back and stretched with a bogus sigh of irritation. "Ain't nobody got time for you, Officer Grimes." She walked pass him through the doorway and stood in the middle of the room. "What can I do for you." She dropped her hands in exasperation.

Rick locked the door, smiled and shook his head. Michonne tried to not to join him, but she cracked and smiled too.

"What's so funny?" She tried to straighten her face, cocking her hip to one side and folding her arms.

"You are." He replied still fracturing. "Why are you trying so hard to be mean to me?"

"Because I'm mad at you."

He dropped his head lower and brought his hand over his stubbly face attempting to gather himself to a more serious countenance. "Whyyyyyy? Michonne. Why are you mad at me?" He approached her, reaching for her hands.

She snatched away. "So we're just going to pretend that nothing happened this morning."

"I was mad at you this morning. So now you're gonna be mad at me out of spite?" he chuckled at her unyielding silliness.

"What were you mad at me for? What did I do to you?"

"Honestly, nothing. That's why I'm trying to make peace with the queen." He whispered and moved his arm around her waist holding her to him close. "Can we start over? Please?"

Michonne perked a brow and pursed her lips but remained silently cross.

"Come on. Say yes." He spoke even more softly in a lullaby-like din and rocked her from side to side. She was melting. He could feel it and it pleased him to no end. Reluctantly she put her arms around his neck and dared to look steadily in his eyes. His eyes read a happiness that Michonne was proud to garner so she gave herself permission to enjoy his embrace. The mirror hanging on the wall above the sideboard gave Rick an out-of-body view of this moment. With her backside reflected, he instinctively traveled the curves of her back and hips and found his hands once again palming the weight of her plump rear. He was always drawn to it and damned if it didn't fit perfectly in his grip like she was molded for him in another place and time.

He opened his mouth but the words stalled on his tongue. He was going to tell her that she had become his religion. He had determined that, it seemed, like ages ago. He wanted to tell her how he'd stayed up nights making mental diagrams of his life to unfold how Lori had come into his life and then been torn from it. He had figured out Michonne had been sent to him. He should have seen it when she first came with milk for his newborn that it was a sign she would be his partner in raising her but he had been too swallowed up by grief. He wanted to tell her how she had been the only one who brought him from the brink of insanity and then filled the hole in his heart. But instead of speaking he just put his lips on hers and submerged himself.

Michonne kissed him back, her knees wavering, her heart dancing and sluggish at the same time. She was ready. She started to move him toward the couch. She was a flare, climbing and shooting to heights that made her dizzy as he lowered her onto her back bracing their fall with an outstretched arm. She arched her back and wordlessly suggested that he dive to the bottom of her body and claim every surface as his own. He was near to bursting, his jeans became uncomfortably restrictive as he grew and stiffened so close to where he needed to be.

Emotions began to bubble and swell inside Michonne. She could almost feel it pressing against the inside of her chest. All her feelings clamoring in her heart, building, until she closed her eyes and it rose out of her, "God, I love you." She said as she drew up her shoulders as though she were bracing herself from some unseen calamity that had lingered over her since she met Rick just waiting for her to say _love_ before all hell broke loose. "Sometimes I think it's too much. And I can't take it." She opened her eyes to see the damage.

"Good." Rick said with a smile as he locked eyes with her. "It's my present aim to make things a lot harder for you. You know that, right?" He laid a rugged hand on her neck, caressing a pathway down her chest, stopping to clasp a breast and kiss her belly like he'd imagined so many times.

"Do your worst." She challenged him.

With one knee on the couch, he left her body to unbutton her shorts. There was a knock at the door.

"Hey, somebody open up." Carl spoke through the door.

"Noooooooo." Rick murmured as he deflated. Michonne threw her head back rolling her eyes with unrest.

"Dad?" Carl continued knocking.

When Rick opened the door Carl and Enid and the other teenagers in the community poured into the house greeting Rick and Michonne and spreading out, taking seats around the room. "Hey, Dad. Why was the door locked? We're just gonna chill here for a while. You and Michonne wanna play Monopoly with us?"

"No, Scrabble." Enid disagreed.

"You always win Scrabble." Carl protested.

"You always win Monopoly."

Rick stood there nursing the wound of an epic misfortune as he looked at Michonne, her lids still heavy over her eyes from the short-lived titillation. She smiled at him, abandoning their moment, "What about charades?" She suggested to the kids. Rick mouthed dissent in her direction and clasped his hands together like a hungry beggar. Michonne just laughed and said, "You're just in time for a game of charades. Me and Rick were just about to play." Rick laughed too and rubbed both hands over his face in defeat, then he joined the party with a sigh.

"I can never win with Michonne." He announced to the room. A statement everyone else ignored but Michonne mocked him with a teasing pout and laughed.

"What's the fun in letting you win?" She questioned him with a wicked flash of her eyes. "You gotta earn every score with me."


	3. Chapter 3

After six rounds of charades ( including a round where Michonne pretended to be a bunny and Rick guessed 'Devil' and another round in which Enid mimicked 'jack-hammering' and Rick guessed 'pogo stick') Rick was declared the worst player in the history of charades. After charades, Enid demanded a game of Scrabble and Carl obliged her for the price of a game of Monopoly, which took hours. After two boxes of Pop Tarts, a bag of nacho cheese Doritos and a jug of grape Kool-aid the party began to wind down.

Finally Carl and his friends departed. Carl walked Enid home and Rick begged Michonne not to fall asleep while he went to pick up Judith from Daryl's house. Michonne pinky swore that she would be wide awake when he returned and had all intentions of waiting up to put finality to a day of unnecessary waiting. Rick was determined to snatch Judith up and be home in 20 minutes, tops. They both failed.

"Hey, man." Daryl greeted Rick as he opened the front door to him.

"Thanks for watching her." Rick gave Daryl a pat to the back as he followed him into the living room.

"No problem, man. But she's still asleep." Daryl informed Rick as he closed the door. "She knocked a couple bottles back and we listened to some Skynyrd. She asked me for a cigarette but I wouldn't give her one." Daryl joked. "You might as well let her stay the night.

"You didn't have any trouble getting her to sleep?" Rick asked with hope.

"Naw, man. She passes out when she drinks too much. I'll bring her to you in the morning and you can deal with the hangover."

Rick was a little disappointed that Judith still went to sleep for Daryl without all the fuss she gives him but he perked at the thought of a baby-free night when he got back to Michonne. He made no further inquiries. "Well I guess I'll see you and the little lush in the morning. Thanks again." He turned to leave.

"Hey, Rick. Let me ask you something." Daryl started as he sat on the arm of a dark brown Chesterfield. "You know how pissed Beth got when we were arguing and Carol said she was acting like a little girl?"

"Yeah." Rick answered quickly shifting his stance, eager to leave.

"I talked to her yesterday."

"Who? Carol?"

"Naw, Beth. She apologized and everything. She said she wants to move in here, she misses me, she's tired of staying with Glenn and Maggie… anyway, man," Daryl lowered his voice and leaned into Rick, "Carol's always over here. We have a good time together. We sit out back and shoot the shit, share a coffin nail or two. Sometimes she's watching Little Ass Kicker and we'll just hang out… she taught me the trick of how to get her to sleep…"

"Oh, yeah? How do you do it?" Rick asked trying not to sound so desperate.

"Why? So you can laugh at our technique?" Daryl chuckled. "That's okay, man, I know daddy knows best."

Rick mustered up a soft snort of nervous laughter. "Come on, man. It ain't that. I just…"

Daryl cut him short. "Anyway man, look. How am I gonna do this?" He entreated. "I want Beth to come, I guess. But she's gonna pitch a fit about Carol. Like, I don't know man, how do you handle things like this with Michonne there?"

"Handle things like what?"

"Like, Okay, so you spend some time with Deanna. You guys gotta talk about stuff, right?"

"Yeah. I meet with her almost every day."

"And Michonne doesn't bitch or get jealous or anything?"

"Why would Michonne be jealous of Deanna?" Rick was attempting to understand.

"I don't know. Chicks get jealous, man."

"Look man I don't have any advice to give. I don't know what…"

Daryl interrupted him again and began to pour out a deluge of issues and inquiries. Before Rick knew it he had been there nearly two hours. While he was there Carl popped his head in Daryl's door to let his dad know he was staying over with his friends. _I gotta get outta here_. And when Rick finally escaped, he tried not to run the blocks back to his house. He could not, however, stop himself from jogging in his boots and praying that she would be ready for him. She wasn't.

She didn't move an inch even when he closed the door. "Nooooooo." He whispered and folded himself in disappointment. Frustration made him throw his head back and sigh. He walked over to her asleep on the couch. _Look at her. This is my woman. Always was._ She had cleaned up the mess the kids left from the looks of things and stayed downstairs awaiting his return. She was not posed elegantly by any means. She was laid out like a vertical plank, her head hanging off the back of the sofa, mouth parted and arms straight. Rick smiled at her unassuming sweetness. Lightly, he touched her cheek, "Chonne?"

Michonne moaned, changed her position and curled up on the couch, her locs hiding her face. He accepted the tragedy before him, covered her with a thin sheet and made his way woefully upstairs to his bed. He kicked off his boots, tossed his jeans and shirt in a corner and plummeted into his mattress still in shock and overwhelmed by the events of the day. It took him a while to go to sleep but finally he did.

"Officer Grimes."

His bed shook and he opened his eyes. _Am I awake_?

"Rick!"

The bed shook harder and he shot up with alarm. A shadow shaped like Michonne was standing over him kneeing his mattress.

"So you gonna leave me on the couch? Where's Judith?" she grilled him.

He stretched and struggled to adjust his eyes. The moonlight was shining through the window's horizontal blinds. "She's with Daryl."

"Where's Carl? Stayed with his friends?"

"Yeah." He brought himself to the side of the bed and placed his feet on the floor.

"So the kids aren't here and I'm sleeping on the couch?" He could tell from her tone that she was wide awake and making an effort to be upset with him to deflect the fact that she'd fallen asleep.

He lightly placed his palm on her inner thigh and stroked her skin. He squeezed her without much discretion and pulled her squarely between his knees. "Do you not remember that you pinky swore you would not go to sleep, woman?" He asked with authority.

"I…" Michonne started.

Rick interjected, "A pinky swear!" now fervently squeezing both thighs with opposite hands and criss-crossed arms. He grasped her about the hips and pulled her forward to him slightly. She placed both hands on his shoulders to maintain her balance and smiled in the dark. She obeyed his wordless command, putting both knees on either side of him on the bed, she straddled him but did not rest herself in his lap.

"A fuckin' pinky swear?" she cocked her head and grinned down at him. "I made that vow under duress and I was never read my rights." She said as her fingers tenderly traced his collar bone and biceps. He drew her down on top of himself, bringing the prize he had been chasing all day- no, for months and months- closer to where it should have been.

"You have the right…" he paused and nuzzled her neck, "to remain right here." He wrapped one arm tight around her body and hooked her under the chin, kissing her lips, sure that this time, the waves rolling over him would reach their intended shores. He was ready to drink her like sands drink the rising tide and he had decided to drink her down completely. "You have the right remain topless." He lifted her tank top into the air for the second time that day. Her breasts were barely discernible in the dark, but he remembered everything about them. Now his desire was to feel them and taste them. So he did.

Michonne inhaled sharply when his teeth lovingly came down on one nipple and his hand passionately clutched her other breast. She squealed when he flipped her onto her back and stood over her, unbuttoning her cut-off shorts and slipping them from under and off her, along with her panties in one sweeping motion. He threw it all on the floor. Michonne was speechless as she looked up at him. He was removing the little he wore and her legs quivered as she saw all he would soon give her and she was more than pleased.

He climbed back onto the bed on top of her. "But I never gave you the right to drive me fuckin' crazy, but here we are."

"Tit for tat, Rick." She said breathlessly into the air of the room as he kissed her neck violently. "We'll be two crazy muthafuckas . I'm cool with that."

"That's how it was always gonna go." He agreed and slipped his hand between her legs and found the little knot of nerves inside her folds. She threw her head back in pleasure and brought her hand down to show him how she liked it, but Rick was handling the situation like the boss he was. There was no instruction needed. Instead she just grabbed his wrist and felt him work on her. Her other hand was grappling his back as if he were trying to escape. She tried to will herself to let go of him but she was overdosing on this intimacy. Rick was leading her now, mind, body and soul. He was leading her like he was born to lead. Michonne felt that letting go would have her falling into the same chasm she already saw herself laying at the bottom of. What sense did it make to fight? _Thank god the kids are gone_ , she thought to herself as it became increasingly harder for her to be quiet. She closed her eyes and began making brazen sounds that immediately became his new favorites.

"You know I'm not gonna go easy on you, right?" he spoke into her bellybutton as he moved down her body to that mouthwatering blessing below.

"Oh god!" she cried out and tensed.

"He's not gonna help you now." He licked from her bottom to top and audibly approved of the taste. "He's busy answering my prayers right now." He buried his face in the musk created from the warmness of the day. He was happy to experience her organic state. She was overcome and realized that she hadn't felt a sensation similar to this since before the world went to hell and now she was in a particular room of heaven that, in truth, she had never entered with anyone- ever. She wormed and wriggled on the end of his tongue. Her breathing quickened and became uneven as she held her breath for moments at a time. And then he emerged from the intersection of her thighs, wiping his mouth and biting his lower lip.

"You're so close. I can't tell."

"Don't stop, Rick. Please." Michonne mewled. She could feel tears traveling to her ears as she laid there at his mercy.

"Wouldn't that be too easy?" Rick whispered in her ear. "I told you that's not how we're doing this." He kissed her long and deep and wrapped one hand around her neck . "See how good you taste. Holy shit, Chonne. You're a narcotic."

She giggled and let out a whine as she pulled him firm against her body. He teased in the lowest of tones, "Rookie mistake, letting the sheriff catch you holding. I take that seriously. You ready for your punishment?"

She nodded and struggled to speak but managed, "Yes." Her eyes locked right on his.

"Then tell me what you want." He pulled her hair back gently.

Michonne wasn't used to this much dialogue during sex. She couldn't believe it, but it made her shy. It made her sopping wet too, but she found herself embarrassed to answer. Rick stopped and lifted himself up on his palms, his arms straight and his rigid peacemaker set against her clit. He moved his hips side to side bedeviling that clamoring little button.

"Say it… and ask nice… come on, ask nice." He kept repeating. He could feel Michonne battling her pride but he wanted to disintegrate any part of her that wasn't part of him. The same pride or shame or whatever it was that kept her from coming to him before now- it had to go. "If you ask me I'll say yes and we're going to wake up…" he growled, "reformed in the morning. No more 'me and you'. Us. We. If you ask me I'll say yes."

She burst open and grabbed his face with both hands, "Please. I don't care what it is. I just want you… to be loved… by you tonight. Whatever that looks like." She exhaled, "Do you."

That was it. She was done and so was he.

"It looks like this." Rick replied. She closed her eyes to feel it better as he set out to define for Michonne what being loved by him entailed. He ravaged her and consumed her completely. He entered her like a meteor enters the atmosphere, burning, beautiful and out of control. His love was not syrupy or mild. His love was savage. And with each pounding thrust Michonne was learning: His love aimed to lay waste. And she reveled in the total destructive power of it.

"I love you so much. It's not…" She groped for what word to say next. _It's not right?_ How could it be wrong? Who was coming between them? Who was being hurt? "It's not…" _Fair?_ The world had to drown in chaos for her to be here in his arms. Was there another path that could have brought them here? "Rick, it's not..."

"It's not enough." He broke his rhythm, granting her the words and they were right. There wasn't enough sunlight in the day to make his eyes squint at the horizon the way she loved, melting her. Could there ever be a night long enough for them to make all the love they felt? Where was the space on the planet that they could go to unload all the cares they carried? He was slick with sweat now and breathless, "But I'm satisfied if you love me the way I love you."

Thanksgiving fell from her lips in a litany of yeses. She sent that prayer up to the man hovering above her. She was close to salvation and it hadn't taken her long to get there. She surmised her emotions and the build-up of the day were sending her over the edge in a hurry. Without warning, she wailed as she felt herself detonate.

"Oh, Rick!" She clenched, "Oh my god!" She literally screamed. She was bombarded with anxiousness for more of him, sending her sobbing into his shoulder.

Rick felt her walls tighten around his weighty length, pulling him into her pulsating center as he regressed to propel an unintentionally final and feral stroke. Then, wrenching what seemed like every muscle in his body, he released an overflow of warm, thick elixir deep inside her. He groaned with the force of his climax. They both just laid there, still and panting, trying to regain their senses. She was planting kiss after kiss from his eyes to his collar. It was such a peculiar urge- but she couldn't help herself.

As he rolled over to lie at her side, Michonne felt a twinge soreness that was somehow precious to her. Turning toward him, she cupped her hands between her anointed thighs as if to trap the feeling there. Normally, after sex she wanted to clean up as quick as she could, but this creamy wetness was the proof that what she had just experienced was real and she wanted to keep that feeling as long as possible. Rick kissed the crown of her head, still short of breath, and swept the perspiration from his brow down his face.

"Chonne. I think I fucked up." He lamented.

Michonne snuggled up close in his embrace and disagreed with a saucy tone. "Trust me, Rick. There is no fuck up anywhere in you."

He laughed at her priceless way with words, "I can see the rest of my life- I'm pussy whipped so bad…"

They both laughed together, face to face, legs intertwined. Michonne assured him, "I would never use this pussy to whip you," bringing a hand up to play in his hair. "I was just an innocent bystander. You whipped yourself."

He punished her for her smart talk with tickles to her ribs. She squirmed and screamed hysterically for him to stop. When he stopped, Michonne could see he was brandishing the purest smile.

"Well, you fucked up then. I'm gonna want you all the time now and you're not gonna be able to keep up with the demand. Poor you." He said laying kisses on her lips and filling his hands with her shape, "What are you gonna do?"

"What I do best, Officer Grimes. Make you wait."


End file.
